


Cuts don't cut deep.

by Dumbassv2



Series: BMC Stuff (mostly Jeremy and Michael) [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, No Fluff, Self-Harm, So much angst, Very angst, my poor Mikey, unless there's a part 2 or something
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dumbassv2/pseuds/Dumbassv2
Summary: Michael's a wreck and doesn't know what to do. He's hopeless without Jeremy.





	Cuts don't cut deep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael stop being a pussy-

Michael was home alone. He'd usually be hanging with Jeremy, but now he can't even talk to him. He just ignores him, and now Jeremy thinks he's a loser. It's about time. He's pathetic, lonely, and no one can stop him.

Wait- what? He wasn't exactly suicidal, he thought about it though. Does that count? Yeah, that counts. It doesn't, you're making things up, Michael. You can't even cut. Doesn't a suicidal person cut? Huh? 

He might as well now. Prove it this time. You were such a coward before, Michael. You had the knife on your skin. Had it deep enough to cut. You didn't fucking cut. This time, you can. Do it.

Do it. Now. Do it. Do _it. Do it. **Do it. Do it. Do it. DO IT. DO IT.**_

Michael got out of his bed. Now he'd be sobbing for a reasonable reason. Should he cut his legs or his arms? He can't wear his hoodie all the time... He'd have to wear shorts too... He doesn't wear his shirt to bed either. Maybe that could change. He could just cut his chest. Yeah. That's a good idea.

While he was thinking, his legs were moving on their own. He's in the kitchen now. Michael grabbed the knife. Don't wait, and don't have second thoughts. He went to the bathroom and cut his chest. The blood oozes out. The warm feeling of it becomes colder. This... feels great. He makes another. And another. More. More!

Shit. He quickly washes all the blood off and runs upstairs to change into less-bloody pants and underwear. Shit, the knife's still in the bathroom. I mean, it's not like his moms are coming any time soon.

**Knock knock knock knock**

Oh, God. No no no. Michael's having a panic attack. He needs to get that knife out of there quickly. He rushes downstairs and puts the knife back. Wait- it's bloody. He tries to wash it off but it's stained. He'll have to hide it. If he hides it in his hoodie, he could be framed for murder. It would fail, yeah, but then everyone would know he cuts himself. Whatever, he'll just hide it in his other hoodies. 

**Knock knock knock knock**

He ran up the stairs. He hid it in the drawers and put a shirt on.

**Knock knock knock knock**

"Hello? Is Michael Mell here?" Wait. That's Mr Heere. He wiped away his tears and ran downstairs, Opened the door, and asked the only question on his mind, "Mr Heere? What are you doing here?" Did he seriously just make a pun? At least it wasn't on purpose. 

"Jeremy's in trouble. I need you to help him, as his fr-" "Sorry, Jeremy and I aren't friends anymore." "What?"

"Long story." "I have time." Michael sighed. He let Mr Heere in so no one could listen in on them. Now he's supposed to tell him everything. Wait- summarize.

"Okay, so he took a pill called a SQUIP to be cool and now he's left me behind because of it?" "He wasn't lying?" "He... told you?" "Yeah, I thought he was lying though..." "Oh. Well, could you put some of this in his breakfast?" Michael handed some Mountain Dew Red. "Why?" "It deactivates it." "How do you k-" "I did my research." "Okay... Thank you, Michael." "No problem, you should hide it somewhere." Michael closed the door after Mr Heere left. 

Shit. Get the knife, Michael! He got the knife and ran upstairs again. Finding a hoodie that was green and had "Cactus" written on it. Perfect. Two front pockets. He hid the knife in the left pocket.

`Alright, just get some sleep. Any more cuts and you might die. You're getting Jeremy back.` Michael kept thinking that to himself. 

**Ring ring ring ring**

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me in the comments if you want this to be more than a one-shot!


End file.
